One day at a time, Dollface
by Flutter-Pony
Summary: Description inside to avoid spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

What if Will had been in the car instead of Quinn? Maybe AU given my lack of medical knowledge. Enjoy!

Emma always expected the roles would be reversed. In her mind it was an easy equation. She would call him from the emergency ward, the one with the red swinging doors. She'd be calm after the de-contamination shower, since Dr. Shane's intervention she'd been better at talking herself down. Still, she'd call Will at McKinley and explain calmly the bug she'd found in her office or the saliva that flung her direction from a ruthless teenager with no consideration. And of course he'd arrive. Will would come sweeping in with a kiss on the mouth that would make her blush in public. They'd dismiss the day as a minor setback and then he'd drive her home with one hand lying idling in her lap. "One day at a time, Doll Face" he would whisper before they unclipped their seatbelts.

_One day at a time, _Emma winced as she walked slowly through the ward. A nurse offered a half smile, but it only made things worse. This wasn't right and everyone knew it.

"I bought you some things," she said, more to the room than the man sitting in the corner of it. He wouldn't look at her today, but at least she didn't expect it anymore.

Her steps were small, her heels smacked against the tiles. Will just stared. At her shoes at the bag in her hand, but mostly at the world outside, through the glass.

"I thought we might stop by Breadstix on the way home, you must be tired of hospital food" she offered, amazed at how much hope her voice could carry.

"You don't have to do this you know" said Will, standing up stiffly, mindful of the cast on his arm, the only visible reminder of the rogue truck from two weeks ago.

The doctors, all three of them told her not to worry. They'd done their scans and waved their medical wands. _We're very confident he'll wake up and at this stage there is no reason why he can't make a full recovery. _The older one said. _You'll be walking down the aisle before you know it, _said the woman. They both smelled like sterility and sweat.

He'd asked for Terri though, and every time Emma thought about it, she could barely breath. Will spent 48 hours unconscious. Emma spent 23 on a rickety chair in the waiting room and 20 more fiddling with the fabric of his hospital linens, obsessing over his body temperature.

When he woke up he didn't just ask for Terri, he cried for her.

"My wife…"

But the Doctor knew his chart. The knowing was in his tone. It wasn't exactly a common occurrence with head injuries, but it wasn't unexpected.

"Mr. Schuester. Do you know where you are?"

"…. I'm in hospital. What-happened-is-Terri-alright?"

"Mr. Schuester, you were in an accident. It's 2012…."

And the rest of the details tumbled out slowly while Emma stood with her arms stuck to her sides.

_You aren't married anymore, sir, _they said to him_. Don't be alarmed, it's not uncommon to have some memory loss…in a week or two, everything will seem a lot less complicated._

"It's okay, I can do it" he mumbled as she opened the car door for him. The two weeks had past but nothing seemed less complicated.

She drove her Volvo in reverse, careful not to move too quickly, he looked tense in the seat, maybe he didn't remember the collision just yet but he'd heard about it.

He'd heard other things too.

He'd heard her say "I love you" after his first day with the physiotherapist, even though he said nothing in reply.

Rachel Berry had come with yearbooks under her arm and recounted the last 4 years, of Glee and success. Will's eyes had sparkled as if she were magic.

Sue and Becky came with a half eaten box of chocolates and the tail of his shortcomings, the professional ones at least.

And Beiste came, toying with the ring on her finger and introduced herself, "I'm the new football coach. We're friends, you're a good friend Will."

A stranger, a real one, had come to explain with great professionalism, that Terri lived interstate, that it was best not to call her, that his life would come back slowly, that everyone was here to help.

He sobbed again then into his pillow. Emma held her spot in the corner and her tongue. She couldn't tell him about the love story that he'd so quickly forgotten, not when he was still in love with somebody else.

"I do remember you Emma" he turned down the radio but kept his face at the car window, it made his voice flat. "You bake cookies for the faculty meetings."

She swallowed her tears. Three years ago she lived for the Thursday afternoons when Will Schuester would smile his gratitude and take a cookie from the platter she'd spent decontaminating the night before.

"Ken Tanaka has a crush on you, you know…" he said matter-of-factly, not acknowledging the silence of his driver.

She did know. A month ago they'd argued over whether to invite him to the wedding.

_He was our friend Will, Finn Hudson wouldn't be on Glee if it weren't for him. _

_Emma, Terri's not invited._

_That's different Will and you know it. _

_How?_

_I stole you from her! I did all that I could to be near you, I completely disrespected her marriage. It's not the same as Ken. _

Now Emma yearned for the slightest flicker of that passion, the vibrant way he would run his fingers through his hair in frustration. She would even forgo the apologies he'd whispered into her hair later that night, the way he'd beamed at breakfast when he smelled the chocolate chips in his favourite pancake recipe.

The new Will winced as they pulled into the drive, like he did everything, it was quiet, polite and detached. At the hospital he'd only smiled or sighed to her, as if admitting he had no idea what do to with the new guidance councillor who just wouldn't leave him alone. He asked no questions, and apart from the tears that escaped and ran down her face, or the whispers that crept from her mouth, "I love you", "it'll get better", she had no answers.

_One day at a time._

Emma unclipped her seatbelt.

"Can I ask you something?". His voice was a shock in her thoughts but she nodded anyway, suddenly afraid of everything she wanted to tell him.

"Are you the reason Terri left me?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for all the reviews, I was so excited to get a response! I'm super keen for Wemma prompts too if anyone feels like shooting me a message. Thanks as always for reading. _

_FP._

"Peanut butter and jelly?" she asked and smiled gently when he nodded.

It definitely was her.

He wasn't sure at first. At the hospital it could have been anyone perched in the corner of the room with hollowed out cheeks. But in the sunlight, and especially now padding around his kitchen, he knew. Hair that red wasn't so common in Lima after all. Last month, or maybe it was a few years back there'd been a debate. Sandy Ryerson flailed his hands about and swore that lochs that copper could never be natural, but Will had watched her move quietly around her office, dusting, fussing endlessly over pamphlets and the broaches that sat perfectly on her dainty frame, and he knew better.

He had held his tongue of course, being a happily married man, almost.

_I've been talking to my sister Will and I know you wanted to name the baby after your father but Vincent is just too… artsy. I mean you don't want our little boy always being compared to that whack job that cut off his ear, do you?_

_Honey, we're not even pregnant yet, we're not even trying._

_Will, this isn't something to take lightly. I can't have a baby with a B-list name. You need to take this seriously._

_Emma, if it's a girl, I like Emma._

_No, we can't. Remember Emma Solomon from elementary school? Total slut._

"You know your way around" he said and she was so easy to startle. She jumped, bit her lip. She was looking so intently at him, he knew it. He kept focused on the polka dots of her skirt.

She corrected the sandwich on the plate and sat it before him on the table. She loved him, he'd heard her say it. He couldn't love her back, that didn't make sense. It had to be a lie. It had to be an act he played for a million reasons. He lied to Terri all the time.

_I've been waiting all day to be with you._

_Being married to you makes me the happiest man in the world._

_You're going to be such a wonderful mother. _

And Will could feel all the truth tumbling down around him.

"I lived here" she cleared her throat. Will thought he heard her sniffle a little, this was going to be painful.

"With me?" He didn't like the way she stepped back, but he didn't like anything much. The apartment looked bare without Terri's crafts sprawled and abandoned.

As Will watched Emma brush invisible lint of her pencil skirt, most of all he hated the way Emma's little movements weren't so foreign. He hated that he went to bed next to Terri but thought about this woman whom he knew nothing about. He heard she gave special attention to the not so popular kids. A theatrically inappropriate freshman named Rachel Berry was always sitting in the guidance councillor's office now, tapping her feet impatiently.

But Rachel Berry was a senior now. Hell, they even spent a Christmas together from what he good gather from her giddy ramble.

Will blinked and toyed with the sandwich where the crust might have been. Rachel Berry had unwrapped presents under his Christmas tree and Emma Pillsbury had slept in his bedroom.

The anxiety seized his fingers, twisting bread between them.

"Will, it's been a long day-"

"No, don't do that! You told me that Terri didn't leave me, that it had nothing to do with you. So what? I left her? And then I just happen to move in with the pretty guidance councillor that was on the top of every male faculties wish list?"

He felt his face go hot with regret. There was something so fragile about his new companion. Daring to catch her eye, he watched her skin go red. He was that horrible person that he feared. The one that could walk out on Terri, could seduce another, the tiny red head with a voice so soft he couldn't help but listen.

"I'm sorry, I can't" he thought she said as she rushed to the bathroom that Terri insisted they needed to remodel.

"Are you done with that?" she was there again minutes later taking the plate from under him, walking around his home as if it were her own. He'd probably told her to make herself at home, in a lazy casual sentence that she assumed was sincere.

When she walked away he knew she's not a seductress. She a temptress maybe, toying with her hair and unwittingly touching her milky skin, covering her fingers in green rubber gloves, but far too docile for an affair.

She was brutal with the dishes in the sink though. he noted the way her brow furrowed. The clunking of metal and china made his head ache but he stood and moved closer as she plunged her elbows into the bubbles.

"They're clean" he asserted from the doorway. She just sobbed until her shoulders shook. Now he'd broken her too.

"Please, stop" he whispered but she was making noise and sniffing.

"Emma! That's enough!" he shouted. "You need to calm down!" the force in his words contradicted them but they served their purpose, she removed the gloves from her hands, slid down the cabinet until she was on the ground and he was with her.

Will was in too deep.

"Hey, God, I'm such a jerk. Sorry, I swear I don't normally raise my voice."

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. "I know," she said at last, offering the tiniest smile. "Just tell me what to do, Will, to make it better" she said stole the words from him, but he couldn't tell her that. He began cataloguing all the new information.

_Emma doesn't like confrontation._

_Emma's not allergic to peanut butter._

_Emma doesn't live here anymore._

"Why don't you tell me about the things you remember?" she said smiling bigger this time and leading the way to the kitchen table with her fingers all tangled up in knots of each other.

So he did, because she asked and when she listened it was easier to look her in the eye.

"Terri and I are… were thinking of starting a family. We're saving up for a trip to Paris first, she wants to see the Eiffel Tower. Then we… were going to start trying."

She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Did you ever meet Terri?"

"Yes, I did."

"You don't like her?"

"I don't like the way she made you feel."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"Terri lied to you, about something very important."

Will almost screamed when the doorbell rang, just as Emma was leaning her body towards his, just as she was about to put her hand on her knee and explain away all the confusion. Then at last he could explain himself, apologise for using her to clean up the mess of his apparently failed marriage.

But the new football coach let herself in, swallowing Emma with an enormous hug and swatting Will on the back despite his broken arm.

"Any of it comin' back to you buddy?"

He shook his head and politely excused himself, blaming a sore head and sleepy body, Emma pinched her lips together and nodded, perhaps sensing his pained heart too.

Dreams came and went, several of them. One was a memory of Terri on her first day at 'Sheets 'N' Things, with a grin so big and long golden hair that he couldn't keep his hands off. And another conversation across a dining room table with the Christmas tree lit behind her_. …What if we get married? What happens when we have a house? And a baby? How are you going to handle spit up on your special Wednesday sweater?_

He blinks awake, holding his breath, then choking as he exhaled. The football coach's voice is gruff and somehow kind and carries from the living room down the hall.

"Pumpkin, don't cry…"

"Ems, you have to tell him"

"Everything! That you're getting married, that you're gonna have all those adorable curly headed singing babies."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"You can't be serious…"

"…Yeah? And what's he gonna do if he starts remembering you and your pretty little outfits and you've transferred to Lima Tech?"

"He is not better off with Terri!"

"Emma, put the phone down! Don't call her!"


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello! I'm so very sorry for the delay, but so very excited by all the interest in this story. I've had a wild few weeks but should be able to update things on a more regular and less frustrating basis from now on. Thanks all for sticking with this story. FP. _

He knew, she could see it in his eyes as he rubbed them. Emma sat straighter in the dining chair and watched him gingerly move toward her in old sweat pants she'd all but begged him to throw out last summer.

He was still marvellously intimidating even with that woeful left arm, a token of their battle wounds. He sat with her at the table. She pictured the villain she must be in his mind, the evil conqueror of his quiet, suburban Ohio love story. Still, he came to sit with her, nudging the tissue box closer as a peace offering. He was still the magnanimous hero she had fallen for. Nonetheless, he knew.

"Terri's not coming here is she?"

He was always so perceptive, Emma remembered their conversation over the pencil sharpener in the dark classroom of McKinley. He was the first person to ever give her that delicate, inspired tone when questioning the ugly reality of rubber gloves and anti-bacterial wipes.

He was a fierce collector of information. Just a month ago he'd stirred the beef stroganoff on the stove and swayed to Elton John.

_Want to know a secret?_

_Um, okay_

_This is our song_

_Crocodile Rock? Really?_

_Yeah. That night we had a picnic on the football field, our second first date. Remember, you brought soy cheese that smelled like vodka?_

_I remember_

_Well after I dropped you home, I was so angry at myself for not kissing you goodnight and I got in the car and 'Crocodile Rock' was playing and I don't know why, it just made me realise that there wasn't any rush, that we were going to be together…. for a really long time_

She had laughed at him then and massaged his shoulders as he continued heaping magical spices into the pan. The heat had them buzzing that night.

Emma shivered in the cold and shook her head.

"You don't have to stay here either Emma"

"I want to"

He moved his able hand forward, he did that a lot when he was trying to explain something complicated to the Glee kids, something foreign.

"But I'm not your fiancé anymore"

"You heard it all then?" Emma winced. No one would want to marry the weeping mess that had fallen apart of Bieste.

"You are so beautiful and you're sweet and caring and any guy would be lucky to have you as a wife, really. But Emma, I have to be completely honest with you. I think that I obviously had a terrible divorce and I think that you were probably the first pretty face I saw and so I…. might have just tried to replace Terri with you". His brow wrinkled, he really believed it, and Emma felt her voice shake even before she heard it.

"That's not what happened Will"

"Isn't it? Because that's what it feels like is happening now. Terri's gone and you're here and it would be all so easy if I just swept you off your feet and we lived happily ever after. I can't do that to you Emma, and I think deep down you have to know it" he said firmly and softly as only Will could.

Shannon had said not to worry. She'd put a cup of tea in her hand, looked her in the eye and promised that he would remember. When Emma had flailed her hands in the air and sobbed while concocting wild theories, Shannon had calmed her like the gentle giant she was.

_Pumpkin, even if by some weird impossible fluke he never gets his memory back, he would just fall in love with you a second time. It's still Will in there. _

She licked her lips and counted the specks of dust on the tiled ground. Shannon was wrong and Will needed an answer, a rebuttal. She felt his tired gaze, a shadow she wished she could crawl into.

"It's not easy" she replied, they were the simplest words she had given him in a week and still he seemed to catch them with confusion.

"Us?"

She nodded. "It's hard Will, we work so hard" and that was just the ammunition he needed, she watched him lean forward and talk with clarity and speed, skills she would never be able to master.

"Then I think we should be sensible and take as the easiest way out. Doubt isn't a good way to start a marriage, trust me". She did. He'd admitted with impromptu sorrow behind the curtain in the auditorium, that he'd stood at the alter waiting for Terri with too many questions knotted in his stomach.

"I don't think you get to be the authority on our relationship" she said, and he smiled at the irony so she laughed, took the tissue he offered and dobbed her eyes, silently preying they didn't look as red and blotchy as she feared.

"Hey, look. I'm not kicking you out. If this is your home, stay. I'll take the couch. Just please don't cry anymore, I can't handle it when women cry", he spoke just above a whisper with a goofy grin.

She knew that, of course. He'd looked ill the first time he'd walked in on her weeping at her almost wedding.

"Don't be silly Will, you need your bed" she said calmly, she wanted so thank him for lightening the mood, giving them both a momentary reprieve. But he gave her a smile that he reserved for new students and the biology teacher whose name he could never pronounce properly.

She bit her lip.

"You always do that"

"Huh?"

"You always bite your lip when you're thinking. When you gave that talk to my Spanish class I thought you were going to draw blood"

"I don't remember that"

"… I know the feeling"

"…Ask me anything" she used her best guidance councillor tone and waited for the barrage of pleas about his ex-wife and what might have been.

"Do you like Riesling? because I saw a bottle chilling in the refrigerator and I think we're going to need it"

She protested, saying he shouldn't drink with all the pain medication he was on, but he was so proud when he located the wine glasses, he beamed at her.

So they drank, chilled wine in the warm room that meant so many different things to both of them.

"…and then you dumped glitter all over her!"

"No!"

"You did. You're a very brave man Will Schuester". He smiled and paused as if recognising his name again, or maybe just the way she said it.

"Stay tonight" he said, a firm request.

"We're not even done, there's still so much you need to know. Terri…" she began and didn't know how to finish. She toyed with the lace on her skirt.

He was watching her, it still made her wordless.

"Tomorrow" he said, letting her escape. Helpful if only a little unaware.

He left his wine glass on the table, Emma noticed but it didn't matter. He'd laughed and turned his head to the side as he listened to her nervous, flittering stories. He was willing, not to marry her, but still willing to listen.

Emma heard the bedroom door float shut politely and so quickly the glee she had felt faded, and as she undressed and pulled a nightgown out of the overnight bag that had been her only companion during endless hospital hours, anxiety swirled.

_Life's messy, it just is._

She wouldn't blame him for walking away, that was the forceful thought that winded her. It wasn't that they didn't deserve each other, in fact somewhere between the vending machine breath mints she'd eaten during his emergency surgery and watching him plead for his wallet from his hospital bed (_There's a photo of Terri and I at the Jersey shore, she loves me, you'll see), _Emma had delved into the pit of despair and found a confidence she never knew possible.

She looked around at the living room she'd stripped for him three days ago, when the psychologist suggested foreign images and forgotten mementos might be too confronting. Nothing made sense. If Will didn't remember on his own she couldn't begin to explain the gruelling games they'd played with each other. Why he proposed to a thirty two year old virgin who'd left one man at the alter and annulled another.

_Breath. One, two, three._

She found her feet again when she heard him stir in the bedroom he promised to carry her to on their wedding night.

_One day at a time…_

Something flickered in her vision, like Terri had that threatening night that spelt the beginning of their trouble.

"Will?"

The shadows moved in the crack of the door.

"Will?" she whispered again, calmly and exhausted.

The door moved this time, he stood flushed behind it with his mouth open, like she'd never seen.

"I… I didn't mean…to spy on you. I just wanted water…I didn't think…you…". Old Will never stammered, he was like a child, his eyes darting everywhere except her face.

Everywhere.

Emma's skin grew hot, he'd never stammer and she'd never stand in the living room forgetting she was naked from the waist up, with a night gown straggled on the sofa.

Her arms immediately standing guard against her frame.

"It's okay" she said ridiculously. He played along though, always the improviser. Will took a step, and another.

"Water is… in the kitchen" said Emma dumbly watching him with her own jaw agape.

They stared. Just like he stared when she showed him the ring Carl had put on her finger in Vegas, just like when he walked on water, like minutes before the crash when he said he wouldn't be gone too long.

"Emma…" he said, she didn't know why.

"It's alright"

"I think I remember you like this…"

It was hotter back then, almost too much. The weatherman had been sheepish on the local news, as if the forecast of more long, thick, muggy days was his own fault. They'd gone back to his place after seeking refuge in the cinema. She'd taken off her cardigan.

_It's summer vacation, you don't need to cover up._

It must have been the smell of pollen in the air or the tight blue t-shirt he'd worn or the anti- anxiety pills that were so tiny she had to check four times she was taking the right dosage. She took off more and Will had sat on the sofa, overwhelmingly still as she bit her lip and waited for encouragement or distain or her own cautious nature to kick in.

_You're naked._

_Not really._

_You're…._

_I'm just showing you that I'll be ready, not for a while._

_I… thank you for… showing me… that._

_I'm crazy-_

_You're not-_

_No, I'm crazy about you Will. _

It was maybe the single most insane moment of her life, the time she'd let herself fast forward, just for a minute, to preview all the things that would take them months and years to build up to.

But he remembered.

"I've seen you like this, but… your hair was different"

He took another step, a chance. Emma thought her bones might explode with hope.

"I… you were just like that, but… we were not here… I think we were at McKinley. Yeah, you were wearing a blue skirt and we were in the supply closet and you wouldn't stop giggling and I remember thinking it was the best moment of my life, watching you move"

The static in the air was deafening, the lights felt brighter and dimmer at the same time. Emma ached, for herself, for him, for both of them. He ran his palm against his thigh, still standing so straight and unaware, as if the stone statue of a war hero unable to see the chaos that surrounded him.

"That was someone else Will, a substitute teacher. Her name was Holly Holiday"


	4. Chapter 4

_I can't type enough, how much I appreciate all the reviews and favourites and all the private messages I have received from people who read my stories. I really, really love hearing from you and I'm always looking for new story prompts. Thanks again for reading, and if you are feeling generous, please leave another review. FP._

Bieste, Shannon.

The name held it's weight in Will's hand as he touched it, moved the phone to his ear and waited for the dial tone.

Things were otherwise very quite. Emma was in the living room, not moving, not speaking, and probably pretending to be sleeping as well.

He'd just done it again, made her tiny shoulders slump. Make her eyes grow even wider. When she smiled sadly and continued to dress herself, he chewed in the inside of his mouth and looked at the ground.

She forgave him so easily.

She offered to fix him a cup of tea. She asked if he was having trouble sleeping. She said good night again in that un-placable accent and lay down on the pillow.

She wasn't Terri, or Holly.

But the pain in her brow made him sweat. A primal reaction, as if his body knew what his head had lost.

"Will? How you doin'?" said the bold voice on the other end of the line.

Will turned to the face the window and stared at the world outside, untouched by all his new found crazy.

"Good. Thank you," he said guarded. His stomach felt hot as he fretted over how much to share with this woman, whom by the sound of things was chewing mouthfuls of something juicy and plump while listening.

"What can I do for you?" she said again.

He gripped his shirt with his fist; the plaster cast was an annoying barrier.

"Uh, it's just Emma…. Wait. You're the football coach right?"

"Sure am" Bieste said through a swallow.

"Do you wear cowboy hats?"

"Not often"

"No! I remember, I was on my phone and you had a cowboy hat"

"Oh, you mean the Honky-Tonk-"

"Tequila!" he shouted before sucking his breath back in, flinging his eyes to the door and blinking a silent apology to the lady on his couch.

He could hear Bieste's smile then a breath of relief. "Wow, Schuester! You remember that night, good for you! Do you remember anything else from that day? You remember the songs we sung?"

He felt his lips quiver as Shannon, his bar fly friend, licked her fingers. He took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, for the third time since he figured out how to turn on his strange phone that didn't seem like something he could afford. He was going to find Holly Holiday, connect the dots. Flashes of her played out in his mind. Her hair, her smile. She wasn't all that different to Terri. That made sense.

Her perfume, her touch, the feeling of anticipation in his fingers. He felt young then, his laugh echoing in his head. As young as he had been when he fell into Terri.

He glanced at the beige sheets underneath him; Terri had brought them home from 'Sheets 'n' Things'. He remembered that because she'd sat them on the bare mattress while they argued about her spending and money and a whole lot of others things neither of them knew anything about.

_How are we ever going to afford a baby if you're spending $100 a week on linen?_

_I don't know Will, aren't you earning a lot of overtime? Or is there another reason you're leaving for work at 6.30 in the morning?_

There was a whole multitude of reasons actually. The café where he ordered his coffee was perfectly quiet when he arrived at 6.45. The halls of McKinley were equally as desolate. He could step into the choir room unnoticed and strum the guitar he kept in his office. He could sit silently in the staff lounge with the pretty ginger while she dunked her teabag into the mug and nodded him a greeting and clicked her heals all the way to her office.

He really had meant to find Holly, a digital name in this mobile contact list, but Emma had caught him first, with her little unassuming name. Their text message conversations were frequent and unintriguing.

_Meet me in the choir room?_

_There is smoke coming from the toaster! What do I do?_

_Faculty meeting on Tuesday until 8_

But as he scrolled up, through recent history, Emma's input stalled and instead his screen was lit with a mixture of pleas and frustrations.

_Shannon said you went home sick. Bad day?_

_I'll be home in 5, are you there?_

_You better be in Dr. Shane's office. _

_I love you. You're scaring me. _

Without subtext, it looked like the ramblings of a desperate man, pitiful, lonely. Then, recorded sometime later, her reply.

_I love you so much._

"Will?" Shannon's voice vibrated against his ear.

"Emma is sick," he blurted with anguish. "I mean, is she sick?"

"You still don't remember?"

"Whose Dr. Shane? Is she going to be okay?"

"Will, you need to calm down". She avoided his question. Everybody did that. The nurse in hospital who said she'd tell him about his wife later, and then left his rotation. Rachel Berry when he asked if she had ever babysat his children.

He heard the beep signalling he'd abandoned Shannon, made her line go dead. The silence was brief because it was just flicker before she was there, with red hair, knocking on the door that was already ajar and letting herself in without permission. How could she be so polite and assuming all at the same time?

"Sorry" he whispered and smiled, trying desperately to be jovial. "I didn't mean to wake you"

"You remember Dr. Shane," she said ignoring his apology. She was so tired, her face was long, and it looked heavy. The nightgown hung so loosely it didn't suit her. It wasn't proper like the perfectly fitted cardigans she wore during the day with floral arrangements. At night she fell apart. Another of her overwhelming inconsistencies.

"Not really" he answered almost honestly, her eyes fell to the ground and not for the first time he wanted to force her head to lift up high, to see her face, tell her that none of this was her fault. That she didn't know what she was getting into when she turned up to McKinley that first day and smiled back at him.

"I think it's time I told you about Terri" she said gently. He recognised that tone, he uses it with his students when he's explaining Spanish congegation he barely understood. He ducked his head, she kept talking. "She… faked a pregnancy and made you believe it was real".

"Did I try and help you?" he was firm, he needed the answer.

"What?"

"You're sick. Did I try and help you? Or did I just… you know, seduce you?"

"Will. Are you listening? Terri lied to you, and you fell apart and for a long time everything was a mess"

"Is that why nobody noticed that you were unwell? Is that what happens? Do you spend all your time looking after me, looking after everybody and then you go crazy?"

"I don't-"

"Holly. Were we together when I slept with her?"

"No"

"Was I sleeping with both of you?"

"No. You aren't like that!" she shouted, but he was waiting for it. Her tactics wouldn't startle him anymore.

"Then why do you run away from me?" and just as he had anticipated, she stalled. Blinked.

"We're getting married" he said softening his tone without meaning too "And apparently you love me, but I go out and sleep with blondes that look just like my wife and I get drunk with the football coach and you run off to the doctor's office"

"If you really want me to leave… I will" as if proving his point she was ready to run all over again.

"I want you to explain" he choked. She gave him no sympathy, raising her voice again and clipping her words so short.

"I'm trying! Gosh Will. I'm telling you about your ex wife!"

"I don't want to hear about Terri! Don't you get it? I know about Terri. I know our marriage. I knew where it was headed, hell everybody must have known. I need to know about you! … I need to know that I didn't make you sick". Will shut his mouth, alarmed at everything that had blared out from his chest as it rose and fell, seemingly lighter than before.

Emma, for her part looked like she was, predictably, running, dashing away. He'd said the wrong thing, run his hand through his hair and jolted his body in an awkward twist, pain raked over his spine, making him stretch and curse.

"Damn it!" he felt his nostrils flare and Emma came floating back in with a sympathetic look and a box in her hands.

"Sorry" he apologised yet again. She sat beside him nonplussed, smelling like lemon and vanilla. Outstretching her fingers she lifted the lid, as if unveiling a long lost treasure. He opened his mouth to ask her so many things. Why she wasn't in tears now after weeping all day, why she didn't try and force his memory back or beg or whine.

But she licked her lips and smiled just a little, pulling a pamphlet out of the floral box that Terri used to keep in the craft room. The paper looked huge in her hands.

"I'm not an easy person to love" she said without a hint of self-pity, handing him the paper.

_Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: Information for carers and loved ones._

The dishes. The perfectly shining containers of fruit that took up a whole table in the faculty lounge. Little clues he'd been noting.

"We got this pamphlet from my psychiatrist just before we got engaged. We both needed to be realistic" her fingers twisted the fabric of her green nightgown, making it rise up her leg, revealing the creamy skin underneath. An hour ago she had let herself be bare in front of him, and now she was completely naïve to the heat of their bodies sitting side by side, the temptation and heated questions she must already know the answer to.

He nodded softly, reading over the bold yellow letters that made everything look glamorous and bright, just how she liked them.

"How bad does it get?"

And of all the things he had said since waking up, those little words smacked her the hardest. Her eyes swelled and her face went red.

"Bad" she croaked.

It can't have been that bad, he thought, if I asked you to marry me. But then the problem would never be Emma's eccentricities.

"Holly was… fun for you. If you want to find her I have her forwarding address in California", he found himself nodding again, opening the paper booklet absently, he wondered how that conversation would go.

A scribbled note sat inside all the grand credentials and words, imposing on the precise paragraph form. The writing was his undeniably, the slant was almost musical, curly and easy.

And with it an easy memory, swelling in his senses.

_There was a light springing from underneath the bathroom door, so he rushed. There was newscaster on the television and the room smelled like lemon and vanilla. _

_The water stopped running from the shower faucet. He must hurry. He must write something._

Emma is peering over at the note and trying to be subtle. She doesn't notice his eyes widen, she doesn't hear the heartbeat pounding in his ear.

He can remember the cautious rush, how it went on for weeks. The tiny snatches of time he took to compose this letter. It was a story he must have once known by heart and touch, but now it was just words his former self had uttered with a pen on a page.

_Emma, you are my favourite contradiction. I promise I won't ever stop learning you. _

_Take this ring as a promise that I will always listen to you, even when you don't make sense. I'll dance with you when there is no music. I'll sleep next to you in the daytime and I'll laugh with you, even when things aren't funny. I love you. _

There was a tremor in his hand, confronted with his own honesty, he faced her. He thought she would be red in the features, but of course she surprised him with cheeks so pale, they were ghostly. "I think it's time you started from the beginning" he said.

She nodded, scooping her knees in her arms and pressing them to her chest, all the while biting her lip. She always did that.


	5. Chapter 5

_Happy Easter/ Passover to everybody! Apologies again for the delay. I'll try and do better next time. _

It was a thirst she knew was unquenchable, the need to put her hand on his broad shoulder, cascade her fingers over his lap, kiss his neck. Emma wanted to touch him so much that the irony rocked her, literally. She pulled her knees closer to steady herself.

_Relax_, he used to whisper with all his weight above her on this same mattress. She had thought it was amazing that he could support himself with one arm and use the other to dance fingers through her hair, until suddenly his hand was hot on her breast.

_You're…_she would always run out of words mid gasp, but she meant to tell him that he was everywhere. She would press herself into him, knowing it was a tease but still smiling in wonder. How could he possibly be everywhere? How could she possibly keep resisting?

He put the pamphlet between them, clasping his hands together; Emma wished he'd at least take a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow before she reached for him. She couldn't, no way, she wouldn't spook him. No…

"Maybe it's easier if you start with something specific", Emma felt her muscles relax. His voice had given her something else to focus on. A relief. She nodded.

"Did I propose to you?" he said in a flat voice that didn't sound like his at all. It made the room spin. The way it had a week ago when she'd taken off her engagement ring and put it in an envelope for what might be hopeless safe keeping.

"I'm not trying to upset you" she felt a tear roll down her cheek, realising that she hadn't answered him back. He'd never _tried _to upset her.

"It's hopeless" she choked feeling the pendulum swing again, heavy and strong in her rib cage. She looked down at the note she was never meant to read, the love letter that would only be spoken at the alter when she was in a bridal delirium. _Contradiction._

Will shivered and kept his eyes rooted to the floor, his arm all muscly and yet limp in his sling. Nobody would ever choose a contradiction.

Emma grabbed each wrist with the opposing hard, leaned forward and spoke with the conviction that made her voice tight.

"I wasn't expecting it. We'd had an argument and I was sure you were going to break up with me. That's the thing Will, I don't know if it's the OCD but I'm never sure. But you asked me, because that's the kind of guy you are"

His jaw was clenched and too silent, in a tight ball Emma's body had momentum. She spoke again, loudly, trying to give her voice a flat quality that it would never achieve.

"You didn't leave Terri for me"

He swallowed.

"But I wanted you too and you knew it and Terri knew it and it was very cruel what we did" she blinked then because nothing about the way Will had looked at her in the hallway had been cruel. Nothing about the way she'd stayed back late to listen to his problems, or saved him from an accounting career was cruel or vicious, and yet they were desperately calculated moves that Emma had planned down to the buttons on her cardigans, and Will had played along too.

_I asked Terri to wear a cardigan in the bedroom once, _he had said late one night after two beers and a football game, _I told her I had a teacher fantasy but I just wanted you._

"Are you okay?" Emma asked when he didn't look up.

"Keep going" he nodded and his voice was husky and frail. These of course were the details he had been waiting on. He was right all along.

"I agreed to marry Ken Tanaka because I thought that's what you wanted". That got his attention, a deer in the headlight, he stared back, mouth-hanging open. "We didn't…" Emma let the sentence trail off, put Will was waiting to pick it up.

"I remember your ring. You showed it to me. You were angry", he paused between words, and Emma got a bitter taste in her mouth. Because it was Will that was angry that day, because it wasn't Ken Tanaka's ring, because of all the honestly lovely moments he could remember, fate picked the day that should have been her honeymoon to another man.

And just like she had drawn her ring finger like a weapon that afternoon, and waited for the crushing impact, she whispered, letting each word fall deliberalty, knowing it would only lead to torment.

"You're remembering Carl. I did marry him. After Ken"

"I went and got drunk" he followed her comment. Emma heard the accusing tone but ignored it. If he couldn't control his memories, he couldn't be expected to reign in his emotions either. "You lived on Grant road", his head shot up with the words, Emma gazed on his mouth too frightened to move further, not knowing if the moment should be celebrated or berated.

He spoke slower this time. "I remember being drunk, driving along Grant road. More than once I think".

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be ridiculous Emma, obviously it was… you had reasons" but the biting tone didn't match the words. She could hear the acid simmering in his breathing.

"Not good ones. It's like I said, I'm never sure of anything"

"But you accepted my proposal" it was more of a question than a statement, a challenge of the past, laced with frustration.

"Because I'm in love with you. Because I have been for years. You're the only thing I've ever been certain of". It seemed like her voice was buried in her chest. She cursed herself silently. Why were the truest things always the hardest to express?

"Why marry someone else then? Why was I driving around in the dark while you played house?"

"You hurt me Will! You cheated!" she spat and the words flew into the room like a circus of wild animals that would never be tamed. Will's eyes widen, danced all over her face, darted around the room.

Emma made a desperate bid to tame them, because they weren't like that. It wasn't cheating, he could never be that malicious, but there just wasn't another word. "I'm… I was wrong, that's not fair. We were taking things slowly, very slowly and I found out that you had been … intimate with another woman"

"Holly?" of course, he had a question waiting.

"April" she countered, knowing it would sting but saying it anyway, the pool of venom was already so thick. "And I couldn't… I just didn't know how to cope with that"

"Then why are we getting married?" she could feel the heat radiating off his skin just inches away, but he was always so good at bluffing, still and grand.

"We're not" she was small and had the voice to prove it.

"You know what I mean", he added smoothly

She did. She knew what he meant, she knew he was waiting for an answer.

The clock on the nightstand flashed it numbers in angry red. Will must have knocked it off its course while fumbling for the snooze button. It was one of those things he did that should have infuriated her. But didn't.

Like the way he tangled his fingers in her hair, when it was freshly curled from the bathroom. How he talked all through the local news bulletin and then asked her to update him, how he stopped her in the hall to kiss her on the cheek in front of everyone's eye rolls and jeers.

"You make everything better". It was a mumble and she said it as she stood up, keeping her back to him. As she brought the envelope out of the dresser and left it beside him, atop of the OCD and the vows, a scattered roadmap of the past, his knee was trembling. She wasn't making things better for him anymore.

"It's the ring you gave me. You should have it"

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be, please. I'm always going to be here Will. I'm in a hotel across town. You can always call me"

She shut the bedroom door behind her because he has always treasured their privacy.

_I just can't believe I have you all to myself; _he would croon to a tune he could make up on the spot. In the living room, Terri's rug catches her feet but Emma stumbled on, biting her lip and not looking back.


	6. Chapter 6

"Give it a week", the doctor said "things will come back to you". Will gave it an hour before he was at the store buying a six pack of beer and a Playboy magazine, because it was coming back to him, that was the problem.

He was getting more comfortable with being alone, sure. After ten days he no longer watched the door, expecting Terri to teeter in and belittle him for drinking beer mid week.

Bachelorhood would be simple, especially since Emma had labelled practically everything in the house with a blue pen and perfect white stickers. He could do his laundry and fix dinner without having to remember where the frypan was. A small but valuable achievement.

The memories though, were a fire that surged and then left smoke that choked. In the shower, the garden and everytime Emma text him to check in.

Will sat the last glass bottle on the carpet and rubbed his eyes. A sharp intake of his own breathing surprised him. Another tiny moment that came with the smell of alcohol and dusk through the window.

He should go and visit Emma in room 206 at the Marriot, like he told her he would in the text message he'd sent two days ago. He should go and tell her that she left her body wash in the shower, that it smells like peaches and a picnic he supposed they had taken once.

All the things he should do were suffocating in his living room. He should call Figgin's back and start working again, he should thank Shannon for the fruit basket she left on his door step. He should give Emma back her ring.

Instead he stood and looked around the now dark room for his shoes, finding one under the sofa and rolling his eyes at himself. He had to get out. He had to get the anger out that seared.

He hooked his arm out of the sling, like a child in a tantrum. He drove to the hotel, thinking it was probably against the rules. He scoffed to himself, as if this new adulterous version of himself cared for the rules.

"Come in", she said, expecting him. She was taller than he remembered, or maybe it was just the pink summer dress with a slightly shorter hemline.

"Sorry for not coming earlier."

"Will, you have to stop apologising" she chided, but she was smiling. But she forrowed her brow when he didn't smile back and stepped inside the room wtih just a blink of his eyes and the shuffle of his feet "Have you been drinking?"

He nodded, a twist of guilt milled in his stomach. It was exactly like he'd imagined, or remembered, he wasn't sure which.

Emma was flawless and shy and he was watching and waiting on the bed.

She fixed him an iced glass from the mini fridge and a tiny bottle of water that fitted perfectly in her hand. "Here," Emma said and then she sat beside him on the edge of the mattress and waited with frankness and honesty.

There were moments before he spoke, because he knew enough to know that what he was doing was wrong. But the alternative was to sit at home alone and know that she was sobbing on the otherside of town, letting it go on forever, because the more the memories surged, the more Will knew things weren't going to change.

"If I ask you do to something, will you do it?", he gripped the water tightly.

She nodded, but bit her lips, he should have known she would hate being put on the spot, like that time he asked her to sing infront of the Glee kids, he couldn't remember when exactly, but she was wearing gold heels that made her legs go on forever.

Will cleared his throat, turned his body to her. "Can you lie down?", she looked warm and tempting.

He watched her move her weight back until her head was resting on the pillow at the other end, her hair was fire against the pillow, her hands shaking. "Will it help you remember?" and Will realised her voice is shaking too. She was unsure, but obedient and with every second it became so clear how he could break her heart so simply.

"I don't remember loving you", he said, knowing it was cruel. "Sorry-", he put a hand on her knee before laying down beside her, careful to keep a distance.

"Stop it", she sighed, and pressed her lips together.

Silence. And for a brief flicker, they were just new lovers, his hand on her knee, despite the cast that covered it. Her head turned to watch him.

But when he brought the other arm forward, it no longer supported his weight. And it was under her hemline and her body was pressed against most of his. And the ache of a twisted history sank into the hotel room that was still well lit.

"I remember that man, Carl, and thinking that he was touching you… like this", Will kept his voice level. Because more than acting out his own frustration, he needed to give her honesty, that was all she had asked for. "I'm so damn mad about it. It's all I think about is Carl and how he shouldn't get to have you."

He knew he should have stopped, he told himself he would. "Did you let him touch you here?"

He thought he saw her head shake an answer, put she slid her panties down her thighs at the same time.

Her hand was with his, underneath her dress.

"Emma?"

She moved his fingers until they were inside her. It had to stop.

But she spread her legs wider.

And moaned. And it was all exactly what he had wanted to do on those nights when she was married to call.

They were in rhythm, her hips, his hands. They had done his before.

"….Will…" she simpered, he slowed and her breathing shallowed.

In the reality that followed, Will knew she would have questions. She sat against the headboard with flushed, ravished cheeks, but he stayed with his head on the pillow.

"Sorr-", he began but corrected himself, "I shouldn't have done that. I know I don't have any right to be here. I can't stop thinking about you with Carl. It's all I think about."

"…And… other things?", she rubbed her lips together but held his gaze.

"About wanting to sleep with you? Yeah, I want to. I've wanted to since I saw you in the hospital." His eyes were on her hips, covered once again by fabric, he kept his hands to himself.

"…Maybe it will help?", her tone was cautious, and Will's heart sunk. It was all so clear that behind her brave, calm exterior, Emma didn't know her way around their predicament any better than he. It was hopeless.

"It will help me" he said, taking a moment to collect his phrase. "Because, I'm always going to want to have sex with a beautiful woman. But, I don't think it's a good idea. I can't give you more than that. I don't know if I'll ever want more than that."

"You just know you don't want Carl to be with me…" she added with a sad nod. "So, um. Are we friends? That can sleep together?", she closed her eyes for a little too long as she spoke.

"…We could try that I guess…" he said, not really meaning it. "But Emma, I think actually, it might be a good idea if maybe we saw other people. It might make it a bit more normal…", it was a ridiculous thing to say.

"What I mean is, that you should be with other people and I need to not get mad about it. Just because I don't want Carl to be with you, doesn't mean I should be either."

"Do you understand?" he spoke to her hip, knowing neither of them did.


End file.
